Healing Words
by ZeldaDragon
Summary: After the debate, it was decided that the remaining army would march on the Black Gate. But an elf is reluctant to go. It is left to the future king to find out why and try to heal his friend's hurting heart.


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I'm back with another short story! Don't you all just love theses? I sure do. =)

My beta and I agree, this one definitely needs a major _TISSUE WARNING_! As I am sure you may have noticed if you have read anything else by me, when I get an idea I go with it, no matter how depressing or dramatic that idea may be. I purposely portrayed Aragorn's thoughts more here that Legolas', so you're going to have to try to put yourself in the elf's shoes…er, boots.

I've been working on this thing for a long time. I am a major perfectionist, so I take up to four months, sometimes longer, to make sure everything flows easily, there are no grammar errors, nothing is wrong in respect to Mr. Tolkien; the usual for me. This particular story has been in the works since early January. I'm not sure where the inspiration came from, I just know that I was sitting in band class and while the director was working with the brass it popped into my head. I was very disappointed that I didn't have anything to actually write out the little plot on, so I took notes on the back of _Vesuvius_. Band nerd! ^_^

* This story contains no slash, just the brotherly love between a certain elf and ranger and can be considered part of the Mellon Chronicles. Comes mostly from the _books_, since the twins are there. Enjoy! 

Disclaimer: Everything mentioned in this story from people to places belong to Tolkien. I own nothing.

~*~

The debate had ended. A feeling of tight tension hung in the air. Aragorn watched as the people in the room slowly wandered out, talking quietly amongst themselves of what was about to come. His eyes soon fell on his elven friend, who was anxiously trying to find his way out of the room through the small crowd. As soon as he reached the door, he took off in a run down the hall. Looking around to see if anyone else had noticed the strange behavior, the confused soon-to-be king followed.

The white marble hall was cold as Aragorn walked down it in search of the prince. They were in the living quarters of the palace, and there were many finely carved mahogany doors leading off of the corridor. The elf could have slipped into any one of those rooms! 

He opened door after door, poking his head inside, but seeing no sign of recent life. Layers of dust had settled over every available surface, coating everything with dismal grayish color. This part of the expansive royal house had obviously not been in use for many, many years.

The chamber he found him in was obviously a woman's. The object of the ranger's search was standing in front of a white vanity, staring at his reflection in the overly large mirror which had clouded with age. He was slowly unbraiding his hair, sliding his fingers methodically through the gold locks as they came loose. After a moment, all of his braids were gone, leaving him looking like the innocent and carefree elf he liked to be, not the warrior everyone thought of him as.

"Legolas?" Aragorn questioned, "Are you all right?"

The prince turned but said nothing. The former ranger could see a strange glint in his friend's eyes, something he desperately felt the need to get rid of. He walked to the elf, who quickly turned back around. "What is wrong, _mellon_?"

Legolas was silent, staring again at himself in the mirror. Seeing that the elf needed some form of comfort - though he didn't know why - Aragorn picked up a soft-bristled brush from the counter of the vanity and pulled it gently through the blonde hair, something the man knew was calming for most anyone. Legolas closed his eyes and took deep breaths in an attempt to stay calm, but a frown still marred his face.

"Legolas," Aragorn said quietly, peeking slightly around the curtain of hair. "Please, tell me what you are thinking,"

The prince slowly raised his gaze to meet his friend's. Aragorn was surprised to see tears forming in the blue eyes as they met his own. "I am afraid," The elf's voice was soft with pure honesty. "I am afraid that I may die, but more afraid that I may lose you, Estel,"

The ranger was taken aback by this admission. "You are not going to lose me, Legolas. I am not going anywhere," He grinned, trying to lighten the mood.

"I have seen so much death," his friend continued solemnly, averting his eyes as he brushed off the jest. "All those poor souls who have fled the world before their time. But I knew none of those men, save Théoden, and while their deaths brought sorrow and remorse, they did not strike me as deeply as they could have. I am immortal, my friend, and mortality is rare for me to witness. To lose you to such a fate…I believe I would follow soon after." The elf shook his head, overcome with emotions he had not felt before. Never had he been faced with such a situation that was so hopeless and he greatly feared what would happen.

Aragorn quickly placed the brush back on the vanity and put his hand on his friend's shoulders, gently turning him around wishing to offer words of comfort. As Legolas stared into the man's eyes, he finally let go. He sank to the floor, tears streaming down his cheeks, and brought his knees up to his chin. The ranger watched in stunned silence as the elf turned his head away and rested his cheek on his knees, his shoulders shaking with quiet sobs.

Coming to his senses, Aragorn sat beside his friend and put an arm across the elf's shoulders. Legolas tensed slightly at the touch but let himself be pulled into the man's friendly embrace. "I am sorry," he choked out, embarrassed at his lack of self-control.

"Shhh…" the man soothed, wrapping his arms tightly around the trembling prince. "It is all right, _mellon_, it will be all right,"

"But it won't," Legolas shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut.

"It will," Aragorn said with determination, trying to override the other's worry. "It will," 

The elf leaned his head against the ranger's chest, taking slight comfort in the steady beating of the heart as it reached his ears. "I am afraid," he repeated. "I do not want you to leave me, not when you are the closest thing I have to a brother and the dearest friend I have…please don't leave…" He began mumbling in elvish, his words incoherent as he turned his face into the soft fabric of the man's tunic. "Don't leave…"

Aragorn wanted so badly to tell his friend that everything really would be all right, that he would not leave, that neither of them would be killed and that they would both make it through to see the end. But he couldn't, not when he himself did not know if it were the truth. His arms tightened the embrace, trying to give the elf the solace he was seeking. 

He rested his cheek against the blonde head and swallowed hard against the lump forming in his throat. He had never seen the prince this…_vulnerable _before and it was unnerving at how pure the fair being's panic was. He had always looked to the elf to be strong in the face of danger, to be the one who _gave _comfort and encouragement, not received them. But then again, who knew how long this fear had been hidden? Something this powerful didn't just pop up on a whim.

Legolas noticed that his pleading received no reply and he instantly understood what the ranger was fighting over. He wrapped his fingers around one of the arms at his shoulder as his other hand fisted gently in the man's tunic, giving the silent acknowledgement that he understood. Choking back another sob, the prince leaned heavily against his friend.

The ranger whispered quietly in elvish in the hopes of calming the nearly hysterical elf. His words worked to an extent and after a while Legolas' tears had lessened, though he hadn't moved from the man's arms. The contact was a comfort and he did not wish to break it.

Suddenly the elf chuckled, albeit a bit congested through his still shuddering breaths. Aragorn looked down at him, confused.

Legolas didn't look up. "You really must think something of me now," he said harshly, "Me, the son of a king, the Crown Prince of Mirkwood, crying like a _child_," The elf shook his head and tried to pull out of the man's arms. "I am sorry to have bothered you with my weak nerve,"

"Hey," Aragorn's brow furrowed with renewed concern as he gently pulled the blonde back down beside him. "You are not going anywhere thinking of yourself like that. You, of all people, are _not _a child." He raised his eyebrows as an emphasis. "And it is not a bad thing to cry. Don't you remember all the times that I lost it over the smallest things?"

"I would not call finding out that you are the only heir to the throne of a kingdom close to failure is a small thing, _mellon_." Legolas interrupted.

"Well, other than that," The ranger bobbed his head in agreement. "Now, no more changing the subject; back to you."

The elf tried to stand again. "I have to go sharpen my knives,"

"No, you do not. I saw you doing that this morning," Aragorn stared his friend down as he grabbed his arm. "Please, Legolas, hear me out,"

The prince sighed dejectedly as he sat, convinced by the pleading look in the future king's eyes.

After waiting a moment to see if the elf would really stay, Aragorn continued. "You are the most compassionate soul I have ever met, the one willing to risk your life for another while everyone else would rather sit back and protect themselves. You are the first one that I go to when I need a shoulder to lean on, knowing that you will understand. Not only understand, but _help_." He easily held his friend's gaze. "You have helped me countless times, but not once can I recall being _your _shoulder to lean on, listening to what is bothering you and helping you overcome it." He saw an objection to that and quickly held up his hand. "By 'bothering you' I do not mean telling me that you are worried about what your father will say when he realizes that you broke the irreplaceable vase from some distant land with a stray arrow inside."

Legolas grinned humorously at the memory. "It was an _ugly _vase,"

"Stop changing the subject," Aragorn gently whapped the back of the elf's head. 

The prince quieted and watched his friend with interest. "Continue,"

"Right," The ranger nodded. "What I am trying to say is that you can confide in me, as I have confided in you for years. I would like to know what goes on in that elven head of yours before it becomes too much for you to bear alone."

Legolas was silent for a moment as he processed these words. He looked up and met the man's gaze. "Aragorn, I…I do not know what to say," He sighed calmly as he placed his hand gently on his friend's cleanly shaven cheek. "I never knew that you felt I did not have the same trust in you that you have in me, honestly. You know me well enough to remember that I am just as stubborn, if not more so, than my father as you have probably noticed many times. You also must know that I am not always open with my thoughts." 

Staring unflinchingly in to the silver eyes, he continued as steadily as he could. "This is because I have never really had anyone like you to confide in. I have learned to keep my face a blank as can be, mostly because it would not do well for my people to know that their prince is afraid or bored or annoyed. I smile when I feel my world is crashing down around me instead of screaming myself hoarse out of a civility that has been instilled in my head for years."

Aragorn put his hand over his friend's but was interrupted from interrupting when the prince continued. "But know, Estel, that you are by far the best and closest friend I have ever had. To lose you would be to lose a part of myself, and that is something I simply cannot live with, not yet." Tears welled in his eyes. 

Again, the ranger tried to interrupt but was again stopped from doing so as the elf leaned forward and wrapped his arms around him in a tight, friendly embrace.

"And also know, _mellon-nin_, that the reason I do not always come outright with my emotions is because I take comfort in your presence, letting your nearness sooth my anxieties. That in itself does a good amount for me," The prince smiled, though the ranger could not see it. "I suppose I should thank you for putting up with me for so long,"

Aragorn laughed gently and returning the embrace as he leaned his head against the elf's. "You are so very welcome,"

A snicker from the doorway caused the two to reluctantly break from the sincere moment. "You know, Estel," Elladan said patiently, "You should actually be thanking _us _for putting up with _you _for so long," He gestured toward his twin, who was looking over his shoulder into the room.

"What are you doing spying on me, El?" Aragorn chortled.

"We were not spying," Elrohir said in the twins' defense. "We were merely…_observing _the precious moment." 

Legolas chucked at the comment. "Call it what you will, it is still spying,"

"It is," The man nodded in agreement, sending a conspiring look toward the blonde.

Elladan did not catch the transitory glance between the two and smiled benignly. "Come along, little brother, and let us find some food,"

Elrohir shouldered his way into the room past his sibling and came to stand in front of the other elf and ranger sitting on the floor. "I know for a fact that neither of you has eaten a good meal in quite a while, and I think I speak for us all when I say that I am starving."

"Indeed," Aragorn clasped the hand that was offered to him and got to his feet. 

Legolas stood beside him. As the twins turned toward the door to leave, the prince leaned in and whispered something in the man's ear. The future king grinned wickedly and nodded.

"It is good to have you with us," Aragorn said nonchalantly as he draped an arm over each twin's shoulder.

"It will be _much _more fun," Legolas added, a mischievous glint in his eye as he followed a few paces behind. 

His soft comment did not go unnoticed as Elladan and Elrohir glanced at each other. They should have known it would not have taken long for the friends to think up some scheme. When the two put their heads together, they made quite a team, a team not to get caught between lest ready to face the consequences (which usually left one with red skin, half their hair chopped off, soaking wet, searching for a missing bow, trying to disentangle themselves from a rope while hanging upside-down from a tree, or left in a hole in the ground out in the middle of nowhere).

Sauron didn't stand a chance.

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**__**

~* A good friend is a thing rare and hard to find. *~

If you've been keeping up with _Little Things_, I have started the next chapter and may post sometime next month. I know, I know, it's far away. But go with me on this; you won't be sorry. 

I also have inspiration for two other Lord of the Rings fics, one humorous one a bit more dramatic. 

I look forward to hearing from reviewers! =D


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